


Gifts

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 11:58:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Christmas schmoop





	Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Gifts by Te

Gifts  
by Te  
11/98  
Disclaimers: The boys don't belong to me, and I am green with envy. Or the stomach flu. Who could tell?  
Spoilers: None.  
Ratings Note: R for language, m/m interaction.  
Summary: Christmas schmoop.  
Author's Note: Rae asked me to write her something sweet. Here goes. And Kass, I hope this makes up for that *other* story.   
Acknowledgments: To Di for many helpful comments, to Spike for fine and thorough beta, to Nonie for timely nit picks, and to my Sister Blue, for putting up with this sort of behavior.

* * *

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Gifts  
by Te  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warm, wet winter in D.C. and Christmas was looking even uglier than usual. A windy squall had taken down most of the streetlight decorations. The remaining snow of a week past was black sludge on slippery streets. The air was only just cold enough to make the humidity bitter. 

Mulder looked out the window and wondered whether the malarial swamp was buried all that far beneath the asphalt. He thought of the original settlers, and wondered if their shivers felt as sickly unhelpful as his own. 

And Alex had been gone when he woke this morning.

They'd had no plans to speak of, and Mulder hadn't even heard from the other man since their last explosive meeting. Sticky August and Alex's sweat had been as high and sharp as his cries.

So good and Mulder felt a wave of heat slam into his balls, lazy and implacable as a storm tide. He'd marked Alex that day, greedy bites welcomed by throat, by chest and thigh.

They'd had a year of this -- a weekend here, an hour there --few words but all of them had the consistency of brands. "Please" and "more" and "again," and Mulder knew Alex had felt them, too.

So it was up to Mulder to figure out just where he'd screwed up. 

It had started with the same dark excitement as always. Mulder with a low purr at his ear and a restless hand roaming his chest. A slow subtle urge to lay himself out somewhere to be used and sacrificed for some nameless, grinning god that only Alex knew.

He'd said: "I missed you."

And it might have been either of them, twined in the dark as they were, nothing but gloom-shadowed neon and arc-sodium to light incomplete stretches of skin.

After, they had lain together on the floor, heedless of the drafts and scratch of the carpet, and Mulder had held the other man close, stroking and petting. The clock on the wall was the only piece of furniture he could make out, ticking oblivious to Mulder's anxiety.

"How long?"

//Give me the night. It's yours to provide...//

"A few days this time, I think." Pause hardened by the brief freeze of muscle under his hands. "If you want."

Mulder had pulled him closer still, searched for Alex's mouth with his own.

"I want."

"Mmmm... I love it when you're direct."

"Bedroom."

Low chuckle tickled his cheek, and Alex wriggled a little so that Mulder was draped over him. "You feel so good, though..."

Before he knew what he was doing, Mulder had started a slow rock against the other man's ass. For a while, the only sounds were the slide of smooth skin and soft moans, but the idea of the bedroom was an important one.

"Alex--" And the hoarse rasp of his voice was a brittle shock. The knowledge of desire can be terrible.

"Mmm?"

It may or may not have been a question. 

"Alex, if we brain ourselves crawling around in the dark to look for lube the romance of the moment will probably fade."

Long-suffering sigh from below and Mulder's smile was nearly painful. Alex knelt up again slowly, allowing as little of his body to lose contact with Mulder's as possible. 

And when Alex had turned the tables on him, flipped him over and rode him hard, Mulder couldn't think to complain. And carpet burns would've been irritating to say the least.

They'd curled together to sleep, but Mulder was too drawn to Alex's softened features to rest. A few days was a wonderful concept, but Mulder couldn't help but wonder what the other man had done to earn them this time.

The holiday season was always hectic after all, and he doubted the nameless old men were busy putting together new bikes and dream houses. He and Alex may have found themselves on something like the same side, but Mulder would never be familiar with the shadows. He didn't want to be.

Alex was only covered to the waist by the blankets, and Mulder didn't want him to ever be cold, or alone, but it would be foolish to pretend that wasn't precisely how the other man spent his life. 

There were, however, ways around that. Mulder had crept out of bed to his closet, rummaged for the box he'd had sitting in there since a few weeks after their last encounter. Mulder sat on the floor, idly running his hands over the wide, smooth surface, and waited for Alex to wake.

Perhaps it hadn't taken very long, but Mulder had been dozing against the closet door when a gentle hand shook him awake.

"Mmmph. Five more minutes, Scully, I swear the spleen-sucking mutants will still be there..."

A very un-Scullylike laugh. "What's wrong, Mulder? Do I snore?"

Mulder opened his eyes to find himself being thoroughly scrutinized by the other man, casual words or no. Alex had his head cocked to the side, and his thumb had made a surreptitious move closer to his pulse.

"I'm fine Al--" An untimely yawn. "Alex. I was just waiting for you to wake up."

"On the floor."

"Well, yes."

"Naked."

"Are there better ways to wait for you?"

Alex laughed again, shook his head and dragged Mulder to his feet. "What's in the box, hmm?"

Mulder leaned in for a slow kiss of sleep and comfort. "It's for you."

"For me?"

"We're not being very bright, are we?"

"Not at all. Come back to bed, we can try this again after another--" A long yawn. "Another three hours of sleep."

"But don't you want to open your present?"

"For me?"

"We've been over this, Alex."

"But I'm *tiiiiiiiiiiired*."

"I never knew you could whine like that."

"Mmph. You should hear me whimper."

"I have."

Slow smile in gleaming neon. "You should hear it again."

"I really can't argue with that."

"Good boy. Bed now?"

"But, Aaaaalex..."

"You need to work on that. Not quite enough pule. Stretch out the x'es." And Alex was tugging him back to bed. 

Mulder complied, but brought the box with him, and settled it firmly between them when they'd settled under the covers again.

"Dammit, Mulder, you took so much time the sheets got cold again."

"Picky bastard, aren't you?"

"I'm just going to have to leave you if you don't continue to keep me in the style to which I've grown accustomed."

An image of Alex nude save for a collar and big "M" on his ass was nearly vivid enough to drag him off to sleep, but...

"Present, Alex."

"I really can't believe you bought a Christmas present for me. I mean I -- how do you know I'm not Jewish?"

Mulder gave the sheets a pointed look.

"Reformed?"

"Please don't. Besides, it's not a Christmas present, it's a Whenever-The-Hell-He-Shows-Up-Again Present."

A snicker in the darkness. "So if I'd waited until February?"

"Assuming I hadn't died of dehydration from wild masturbation?"

"You think about me when you jerk off?"

"Mostly just before, but that's not the point."

"OK, OK, I'll open it. You better fucking have my Groundhog's Day present ready when I come back again, though."

"Picky *and* greedy."

"You weren't complaining with your cock down my throat."

"I was, too. 'Oh God, Alex, more,' is actually ancient Sumerian for 'You are damned annoying, but you *do* give good head.'"

"And that little shriek?" 

"There was a spider on the wall. A big one."

"You have all the answers, don't you?" The words were snappish, but the voice was warm.

"Yes, grasshopper. See?"

"Oh, I see, sensei. Wanna grab my pebbles?"

"I wouldn't call them pebbles, per se..."

"Hey, I was trying to go with the metaphor, Mulder."

"Wise man say: You mustn't run before you learn to walk, grasshopper."

"I think I may beat you to death with this box."

"I could die content if you'd just open the damned thing first."

"Can we try to drag out the suspense a little while longer?"

"No."

"Awww... you're just no fun anymore, Mulder."

"That's not what you said whe -- Would you just open the *box*?"

Another chuckle, "Almost got you..." but Alex was opening the present.

Crinkle of paper and Mulder remembered the smiling young woman at the store asking if he'd wanted it wrapped as well. They hadn't had anything painfully garish, so Mulder had declined. 

"I smell dead animals."

Mulder smiled, waited. He was prouder of this gift than he cared to think about. "I was hoping to appeal to your predatory side."

"Just a side?"

"Well, it's been *months* since you chewed on me with any real fervor."

"Any real -- You really are asking for it."

"And here I was worried I wasn't being obvious enough."

Mulder could hear Alex shaking out the jacket better than he could see it.

"Oh, wow."

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, Mulder... Thank you."

The words were muted, but then, so were they both. It really had been late. 

"It's got all sorts of pockets for..."

"Stuff." And the smile was audible.

"And it also has..."

"Yes?"

"Kevlar lining."

"Kevlar."

"Yes."

"Kevlar lining."

"Um-hmm."

"You crazy sonofabitch... you had this specially made for me?"

"Well, the sizing was a little difficult and you can't just go out and *buy* Kevlar anywhere--"

"Yes you can."

"I don't want to know. Anyway, yes, I had it made for you. Stylish, yet practical."

Long silence, and Mulder started to get a little worried.

"Mulder, I... I didn't... I don't have..."

He tossed the box off the bed, pulled the other man in for a long, slow kiss. Alex tasted of a little salt, and the smell of new leather was strong and rich. They'd made love again, tired and sweet, and Alex had kept his eyes closed the whole time. 

And when Mulder woke up, he was alone. The urge toward anger was powerful, and the too often false sentimentality of the season wasn't helping. They were supposed to have a little time, and even knowing that Alex often had to leave with minimal warning didn't ease the bitterness.

This was too much. Mulder had just given the man a present, not demanded to meet the other man's parents and have a commitment ceremony.

The thought had its own dark humor.

"Hey, Mom, remember Dad? Yeah, well, this is the guy who may or may not have killed him. And we're going to get sorta kinda married. What? I didn't mention I was gay? Mom...? Mom? Why are you twitching like that? Mom? Put the gun down, Mom..."

Mulder laughed alone. Alex would've appreciated the humor, but he wasn't here. 

He got himself a beer and tried to think it through. One, Alex had been happy to see him. Two, Alex had proceeded to prove that in several messy ways. Three, Alex had liked the jacket --evidenced by the fact it was gone. The receipt was still there; he wouldn't be returning it. 

However, he hadn't brought anything for Mulder. 

The idea was absurd -- Alex Krycek didn't run off in a fit of guilt because of a holiday faux pas. Alex didn't do fits of guilt very well. Alex didn't do guilt very well, period. It was one of the differences between them that Mulder appreciated -- there was little chance the man would try to horn in on his moping time.

The door opened before he could circle back in on his thoughts. Alex, bejacketed and wearing ice crystals in his hair. The cold air tried to follow him inside, but Alex kicked the door closed.

"Why aren't you still asleep?"

Mulder searched the other man's eyes for a long moment. "The bed got cold."

"And you call *me* picky."

"Where did you go?"

//Don't *do* that.//

"Just... just out, Mulder. I had to... do some thinking."

"What?"

"Well, you got me this coat..."

"Don't tell me you left me here to drive myself insane just to find a present."

"As if you don't regularly bugger yourself up *anyway*."

"Dildos are besides the point."

Wicked smile. 

"Sex toys? Have we reached that point in the relationship, Alex?"

"There's a special point?"

"Alex."

"I thought I told you to work on that."

"Alex! Why? Why did you... I don't need anything. Presents aren't... Dammit, it's not like a hostage exchange, Alex."

"So few things are..."

Mulder geared himself up to yell again, but Alex held up his hand.

"Look, Mulder... I know you didn't mean to make me think this way, and really, you didn't. So few people..." Alex frowned, shook his head. "That isn't important. I just want... I just want you to know how much I... appreciate being with you."

"And later, we can watch college football, clap each other on the shoulder, belch loudly, and point at the cheerleaders' tits. Lest we get too emotional."

"Such an asshole."

"But you... appreciate... me, anyway."

Alex smiled, moved over to Mulder. Stretched out so he was leaning back against the arm of the couch, back resting on Mulder's thighs. 

"You could say that."

Mulder laughed, ran his hand along the other man's chest.

"The jacket isn't *that* warm, Alex. A tee shirt isn't enough."

A snort. "Yes, dad, I'm sorry. But remember where I'm from."

"Florida? Utah? Vladivostok? Morocco?"

"Yes."

"Asshole."

"Mm-hmm." Alex sighed contentedly, nuzzled a little closer.

"So...."

"Yeah?"

"What'd you get me?"

Mulder could feel the smile through the cotton of his robe, and then Alex was moving Mulder's hand a little higher and to the left.

Mulder swallowed once. "All mine?"

Alex buried his face against Mulder's belly, whispered. "All yours."

"But if I tell anyone, you'll have to kill me."

"Yes, and them, too."

"Hmm... maybe it's the Christmas spirit--"

"Singing is also a crime punishable by death."

"I've heard *you* sing."

"Yes, but I'm good at it. And you're not."

"So it's *bad* singing that's against the law."

"Mulder."

"Hey, I'm just trying to clarify."

"Mulder."

"Hmmm....?"

"Shut up and cuddle me."

~~~~  
End.  
~~~~


End file.
